


The Green Dawn

by jbwritesthings



Series: Dragon Age: A Legacy [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Game Novelization, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 21:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13016979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbwritesthings/pseuds/jbwritesthings
Summary: A wound in the sky is the same as a wound in the hand, glowing brightly green at the dawn of a new era. The Era of the Inquisition. (Novelization of my play through.)





	1. Prologue

The light was dim in the keeper’s aravel, she having just left her First with his thoughts. The richly toned elf sat in quiet contemplation, dark red hair half up in braids while the other side was free and down to his shoulder. A high forehead, high cheeks, and slender jaw denoted a scholarly mind mixed with wide orange-amber eyes in deep thought, making him appear even more thoughtful. A long, slender nose was only disrupted by a slight bump, from an old wound. Light yellow markings of Dirthamen reflected off his features, a contrast to his warmly toned skin.  His eyes denoted all the information he was considering, he was already planning what needed to be done. With a tired sigh, he rose to a stand. The first of the Keeper, Myrrdin Raserniel Lavellan, had quite some work to do.

He left the Keeper’s aravel, taking a deep breath of the world around him. Rubbing his forehead,he considered what he’d just been told to do. Go to the Conclave where the shemlen chantry was meeting with the shemlen mages and shemlen templars to broker peace. Learn what they had planned and how it would affect the clans. Myrrdin had honestly not expected it, yet here he was with this responsibility. The Keeper had mentioned to prefer him to go instead of one of the hunters or warriors, his insight being worth more than theirs.

So he had to make arrangements for Eleri. It wouldn’t be hard, the bubbly four year old girl was well liked in the clan and often looked after while he helped the Keeper. But this was more than just a few days of being away; this was going into the belly of the beast, to say the least. A week, maybe two, it all depended. Still, that would be a long time without his little girl. An idea which caused an ache in his heart.

“Dada! Dada!” The call from across the camp caught Myrrdin’s attention, eyes brightening as he looked up, a smile beginning to tickle across his features. Running towards him, dark blonde loose curls bouncing as she did, was the sunshine of his days and the moonlight of his nights.

“Eleri!” He greeted, kneeling down and catching her as she ran full speed into his arms. He allowed himself to fall back, holding her and laughing. “By the creators, did you grow in the time I was speaking with the Keeper?! You’re much bigger than I remember!”

“No, don’t be silly!” Eleri giggled, sitting on him.

“Are you sure?” Myrrdin teasingly pressed, propping himself up on his elbows. “After all, you’re becoming such a big girl so quickly! You could easily have grown during my meeting!”

“Dada, I din’t!” 

“Alright, what if I got smaller?” Myrrdin kept his face completely straight with that comment. “Perhaps that’s why you seem bigger.”

“Dada no!” Eleri laughed, burying her face in his chest as she shook with how much she laughed. Myrrdin laughed as well, wrapping his arms around her and standing up.

“Maybe I’m just old.”

“Yeah, you’re old.”

“Well you didn’t have to agree so readily,” Myrrdin lamented. “I’m not as old as some. Like our cousin, the Hero of Ferelden! She’s a whole  _ two  _ years older than me!” Eleri gave a playful gasp at that, causing Myrrdin to grin. “Quite right, she ought to be walking about with a cane by now!” 

He carried her over to one of the campfires, debating on how best to breach the subject of his leaving. She was a smart girl, but she’d only been without him for, at most, three days. And he wasn’t sure how she would feel. Yes, she’d still have other family members about but…

He was her father, and she’d lost her mother before she even knew her. And while he held hopes of returning in one piece, there was an unsettling feeling in his stomach. He had to infiltrate the area, pretend to be a mercenary set up as a guard. That was what the Keeper had suggested. He was a resourceful young man, she had said, he should do well enough. Yet what if things went badly?

With a heavy sigh, Myrrdin sat down by the fire, Eleri on his lap.

“Eleri, I need your help with something very important,” he began. That got her attention and the girl sat up straight, looking up at her father with wide, orange-amber eyes. “I have to go away for a bit and you know the Keeper needs lots of help.”

“Mm, she always needs  _ your  _ help, Dada!”

“Yes, that she does,” Myrrdin laughed. “Well, since I’ll be gone for a bit, I need you to stay and help how you can as well as keep your cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone in line. Do you understand?”

“Is that why I can’t go with you?”

“Exactly, da’len. You need to keep an eye on everyone for me. It’s an important job, you see, and I wouldn’t trust just anyone to do it!”

“I can do that, Da!” Eleri nodded firmly, resolute in her promise. It gave Myrrdin a sense of relief he was able to distract her from it. Just give her a little responsibility and her mind would be off of it. “How long are you gonna be gone?”

“A week or two, perhaps. It’ll be the longest I’ve been away from you…” He pushed back a stray curl from her face. “And I will sorely miss my little Eleri.”

“...Why can’t I come?” There was pain in her voice and it hurt his heart. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, taking a deep breath. He gently stroked her curls, toying with them a bit as he looked at his daughter.

“Because, like I said, I need someone as capable as you to make sure everyone in the clan behaves themselves, hm?” He kept a jovial tone when talking even if his heart was breaking a bit. He hoped the worst would not occur and he would see her smiling face again. “Can I trust you with this very important job? You’ll start tomorrow, you see. So I need you to be ready.”

“I’m ready, Dada.” At least someone was. Myrrdin pulled her close for a hug, trying to focus on the positive ways this mission could go. He looked up, seeing his older sister standing a bit off, concern in her amber-orange gaze. Myrrdin let out a sigh, setting Eleri down and making his way over to her.

“Ironina, keep her safe,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against hers in affection, dark red hair of both siblings intermingling as the pair had always done. Never without the other, much like Falon’Din and Dirthamen.

“I ought to go with you, you know,” her sharp Dalish accent was crisp and not as harsh as she usually spoke. It was gentle, with a plea to it. “You get yourself in trouble without me.”

“Eleri’s my daughter, you know she probably will get into just as much as I do,” Myrrdin countered with a laugh. “And she’ll need more help than I will. I just keep my head down, listen, and observe. I’ll be back shortly. It’ll be like I was never gone!” He watched as she looked down and to the side, avoiding his gaze. With a chuckle, he bent down a bit to catch her eye. “Now, help me pack up, would you?”

 

* * *

 

The mountain pass proved difficult to navigate, but he’d dealt with difficult matters before. He did pride himself on his horsemanship skills. It was one of the few reasons the Trevelyans weren’t entirely ashamed of their middle son. Seigfried was known for his...Habits. He wasn’t as business minded as his older brother, or well mannered as his templar-in-training younger brother, Maxwell. Instead...He had his charisma. Which got him into trouble with their fellow nobles. The faint scar on his right cheek was evidence to that, not the formerly broken nose though. That was another story.

And all this brought the question as to why he was being dragged to this was beyond him. He was sure it was some sort of punishment by his father for seducing Lady Greveaux...Or was it Trousaus? Something or other. It didn’t really matter, it hadn’t been that enjoyable of a time, and all Seigfried knew was his older brother got to stay home while he and Maxwell were dragged to the negotiations at the Temple of Sacred Ashes with their father. Maxwell seemed interested in it, bright eyed and often discussing the meeting with their father while Seigfried...Well, he could think of a thousand other things he could be doing.

There damn well be good drink and willing partners at this Haven place. He wondered how many, honestly, between mages, templars, and chantry. Any women of the cloak might have an interest. A smirk came to his features as he sat astride his white horse, blond hair being swept about his handsome freckled face and green eyes alight with mischief. What a tale would that be to tell! Seducing a chantry sister right under the Divine’s nose. He’d get quite a few drinks back home for that one.

“You’ve got that look.” His younger brother’s comment pulled Seigfried out of the tavern scene he was imagining. He looked at the younger man, his shaggy brunet hair a bit out of place due to the wind. Maxwell examined his brother with thoughtful brown eyes, seeming to try to discern what he was up to. “You know Father brought you along because of Lady Trubeau…”

“Trubeau! That was it!” The exclamation caught the attention of their father, who threw a glare over his shoulder at the pair. Maxwell raised a hand to his fair face while Seigfried merely waved with a cheeky grin. Bann Trevelyan gave a huff of annoyance before looking forward.

“Seigfried, you can’t misbehave while we’re here,” Maxwell spoke in a hushed whisper. Seigfried gave him an affronted look to which Maxwell narrowed his gaze a bit. The older brother shrugged, turning his gaze back forward. “There’s a lot riding on this with the war between the mages and templars. One step out of bounds…”

“And everything could explode, I know, I know,” Seigfried grumbled. He looked indignantly at the grey haired patriarch in front of them. “I don’t understand  _ why _ Father thought it a good idea to bring me along. The chances of me ruining five marriages, causing six sisters to be expelled, and starting at least ten tavern fights is very high.”

“Perhaps he brought you along to teach you responsibility,” Maxwell shot back, urging his horse forward. Seigfried gave a chortle at that, shaking his head. The mere idea of that was hilarious. Him, learning responsibility? Maybe when mabari fly.

 

* * *

 

The early morning sun filtered into the camp, spilling soft light between tents and trees. A few members of the camp were up and about, getting ready for the travel of the day. One sat at a makeshift desk, using a barrel as her writing surface to pen a letter. Dark waves spilled over her shoulders in soft curls, the sunbeams brushing against her hair and giving it an ethereal glow. Her olive skin seemed to shimmer when the sun hit it, almost as if a vision. Or at least, by one of the members of the camp’s opinion. Standing a bit off was a young man, brunet curls sloppily framing his fair toned face. Grey eyes looked on in amusement as she scribbled this and that, the weary and somewhat gaunt look on his face disappearing. He was a man who looked worn down by war, the scars and stubble on his face showing how he sometimes didn’t get himself well taken care of. But seeing the woman before him...It seemed to ease him. He lingered a bit closer to listen as she worked.

“I hope all is well with you,” the woman read her writing aloud, seeming to think on what to say next, “I received a letter from Dazbo...He said he’s doing well, and so I hope for the same...Oh dear, that’s redundant.” Bright, wide blue eyes were furrowed in thought, well kept dark eyebrows framing them attractively. A well shaped, slender and long nose creased a bit as she considered what she wrote. Her slender jaw tightened a bit, putting a bit of a change to her heart shaped face.

The man walked up beside her, resting a fairer skin hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a warm smile and he looked at her with warm affection in a grey gaze.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his own dark hair brushing against hers. “Writing a letter to Zoria now, Aurora?” His accent was thick and Orlesian, something Aurora was sure a few of her countrymen would not approve of.

“Yes, it’s a bit relieving to finally be able to write to them without worry about the Templars,” Aurora stated, leaning against him. “I haven’t seen or talked with either of them in so long...I wish they would have agreed to come to the Conclave. I’m sure, as Amells, if they weighed in, especially Zoria, with her connection to the Hero of Ferelden…”

“Sssh, you’re getting yourself into a tizzy,” he laughed a bit, rubbing her shoulders.

“I know, Etienne, but...It still would have been nice to see them.”

“Would have been nice to meet them,” he added fondly. “But I suppose I’ll have to wait for our wedding to get them to drag themselves back, hm?” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, his stubble tickling her soft skin. She gave a bit of a laugh, pulling back.

“Amells are stubborn,” she countered, “but I’m sure they’ll come...And you need to take care of that…” she motioned to his face “Whatever it is, before we get to Haven.”

“What? It doesn’t make me ruggedly handsome?” He teased, cupping her face in his hands, brushing the tip of his nose against hers before rubbing his rough cheek against hers. She gave a squeal of amusement, playfully pushing him back.

“No! Not at all,” she laughed. “Now go get that trimmed, so help me!” 

Etienne took her hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it with a wink.

“As my lady commands.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Labor is discussed in this chapter. It is brief, but it is in this chapter. It is the second to last scene.

The streets of Haven were busier than they had ever been, even during peak pilgrimage seasons. Representatives filled the streets with unease. Tensions ran thick but most kept to themselves, not desiring the wrath of their superiors to fall upon them. One foot out of line could cause more problems than were necessary. Yet it didn’t keep all the pettiness out.

He sat atop a rocky overhang, eating a sweet roll and making notes of the people upon the main road. He could see them but they were far too busy to pay attention or even notice an elf relaxing just a bit above their heads. Shemlens going about their business, albeit Myrrdin felt at any second, something would ignite. Perhaps a mage would look at a templar in the wrong way or a templar breathe too closely to a mage. Myrrdin was sure the shems were looking for any excuse to start a fight. That was how they were, after all.

The sounds of an argument floated over the crowd and he ignored it until he heard a  _ specific  _ term.

“—Useless knife-ear!” Myrrdin turned his head quickly at the insult, seeing a brunette elf girl cowering before a human nobleman. “How stupid are you?! I told you to bring the turquoise hat, not the aqua!” He’d had enough. Myrrdin leapt down from his perch with ease, surprising on of the merchants he landed beside. He quickened his pace as he saw the human’s hand raise, grabbing it before he could strike.

“That’s enough, delltash!” He hissed, orange-amber eyes narrowed with heat. He jerked the nobleman back with a surprising amount of strength for one of his build, shocking the man.

“You-you  _ dare _ to interfere, you savage?!” He snarled, stepping closer to Myrrdin. “This matter is no concern of yours!”

“You made it half the street’s concern with your pompous shouting,” Myrrdin shot back, not giving an inch of ground to the man.

“You ought to learn your place, boy.” Venom laced his tone and Myrrdin saw how his hand moved towards the blade at his side. Myrrdin flexed his hand a bit, lightning lacing briefly between his fingers. “Do you know who I am?!”

“There you are!” The new voice interjected, breaking the growing tension as both men turned to look who spoke. The blond human made his way over, wrapping an arm about the elf’s shoulder and grinning at the other human.

“Seigfried?” Myrrdin’s tone expressed his surprise at seeing the man there.

“Ah yes, please excuse my friend,” Seigfried continued, patting Myrrdin on the shoulder. “He’s new to this whole thing, fresh out of the woods and all.”

“You’re one of the Trevelyan boys,” the lord realized, “the troublemaking one.”

“Oh. Yes. That would be my reputation, wouldn’t it?” He turned Myrrdin and started to walk off. “Well, we’ll be on our way! Also, that hat is quite fetching, love the hue.” Once they were far away enough, Seigfried let out a breath and turned to Myrrdin. “You are a noble man...If not a fool.”

Myrrdin removed himself from Seigfried’s hold, turning to face him fully. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“You first.”

“You were the one about to start a fight in the middle of templars itching for any reason to kill a mage. The honor to explain first goes to you!”

“So you’re saying you saved my life?”

“I am very much saying I saved your life.” Seigfried gave a sigh though, shrugging. “My father wanted me to come along to so I could learn…’Responsibility.’”

“You? Capable of learning responsibility? Perish the thought!” Myrrdin remarked with a playful smirk.

“I know, it’s like he doesn’t even know me,” he laughed. “Your turn.”

“While some of the clans don’t concern themselves with human politics and wars, some of the clans are concerned on what  _ this _ war could mean for our people. I was sent to observe the negotiations.”

“Hm, well, if that’s the case,” Seigfried began, clasping a hand to his shoulder, “I can see about getting you in closer. Maybe have you play an elf servant or what not...Something. We’ll talk to Maxwell, he’s got a better mind for this than I do.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you mad?” The look on Maxwell’s face was affronted as he looked between the two other men. “You wish for me to find a way to get a Keeper’s First in close to the negotiations.”

“C’mon, this war is bleedin’ into Dalish clans too and you know it,” Seigfried countered. “There’s as much a right of a Dalish representative there as any of us!”

“I may agree with you there but Myrrdin, you know that-”

“Others may not agree to an elf being involved?” Myrrdin’s tone was harsh but there was an accustomed tone to it. He’d expected it, to be honest. Humans viewed the Dalish as savage heathens, after all. There was no room for consideration of his people in their dialogues.

Maxwell gave a slightly apologetic shrug. “Exactly. They wouldn’t respect you as an equal...But I may be able to convince them you’re a trusted servant. Play up the bullshit idea of ‘dumb elf.’ No offense.”

“None taken,” Myrrdin responded with a dry chuckle. “So you’re thinking of using their ignorance against them.”

“It’s worked before.” Maxwell shot him a crooked grin. “So you’ll be our—”

“My lords!” A messenger burst into the room, interrupting the meeting. “I have an urgent message for Lord Seigfried.”

The three men looked between each other before Seigfried moved to take the letter. “Oh, tell me it’s not Lady Gruteau—”

“Trubeau,” Maxwell corrected.

“Begging me to return to her bed?” He chuckled to himself, opening the letter but soon the humor on his face fell. Maxwell and Myrrdin both knew a serious look to Seigfried’s face meant something incredibly dire and both moved closer out of curiosity’s sake. Seigfried quickly folded the letter, though, turning to the two. “Maxwell, you and Myrrdin will have to go and meet Father. I’ve got pressing business to return to in Ostwick.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Maxwell reached for the letter, Seigfried pulling it out of his grasp. “Seigfried, you can’t just—” He didn’t even get to finish the sentence before Seigfried was already out the door. Myrrdin and Maxwell exchanged confused glances before the human sighed. “Well, we’d best head to the Temple. They’ll be starting soon.”

 

* * *

 

Damn him, damn him to the Deep Roads! He hadn’t expected Lord Trubeau to lash out in such a manner. Sending a threat as serious as that just for sleeping with his wife?! The man definitely was petty, to say the least. No wonder she’d been so eager to sleep with him if that troll was her husband.

Seigfried looked at the letter again, rereading it as he prepared to mount his horse. He was to return to Ostwick or his brother would pay the price for the slight. His brother, his brother had nothing to do with it! His older brother was many things, but he was not good with weapons. Better with words, business dealings, the likes. He didn’t even know what end to hold a sword! How dare Lord Trubeau drag family into this matter like a child. Seigfried would be more than happy to show him his place, to make him regret ever threatening his family for such a thing. He wouldn’t sit idle in this scenario.

He urged his horse out of the stables and set pace through the streets of Haven, barely paying attention to the people walking about. His mind was on his goal; to get to Ostwick as soon as possible and deal with the stuffy lord himself.

Darting out of the way of his horse at the gate, Aurora was taken by surprise at the man in a rush to leave Haven. It seemed to be the opposite today. Yet in her haste, she hadn’t seen someone in the path of which she leapt, the man putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

“Are you alright?” A distinctly Fereldan accent asked.

“Fine, fine, just a bit...Where in the world was he off to?” She continued to look out the gate after the madman on his horse.

“Who knows. Could pay a bit more attention, though.” Aurora turned to look at the man who’d steadied her and he looked at her. Her eyes began wide in shock and she pulled herself out of his grip. Blond, curly hair adorned his head, with light brown eyes which spoke of seeing more than a man his age should have. He was tall, like many Fereldan men.  A bit older than she remembered, but she assumed she had the same appearance. She noticed the scar on the right side of his lip and wondered briefly where he had gotten it from.

He seemed as surprised as her, clearing his throat. “Aurora? Aurora Amell?”

“Cullen,” she greeted curtly, looking down at the tracks in the snow.

“You’ve, uh, you’ve changed,” he commented, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, it’s been roughly ten years, people change in ten years.  _ You’ve  _ changed in ten years, after all.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” There was an awkward silence between the pair, both unsure of how to breach it. “Your siblings...How are they?” An attempt.

“I assume you want to know about Zoria,” Aurora remarked dryly, almost bitterly. “The last I heard she’s still off with Zevran and they’ve got a little one now. But I have not seen either of them since…” She trailed off, both seeming not to want to think back.

“I see...It’s good to hear she’s well. And Dazbo?”

“Good as well, both weren’t able to come,” Aurora explained.

“How, uh, how are you?” 

Before Aurora could answer, she heard her name being called and turned to look. Walking towards her was Etienne, waving and smiling a bit. He paused, though, as he noticed Cullen, and made his way to Aurora’s side. He looked at the taller man as he rested an arm about Aurora’s waist, settling comfortably there with her.

“Etienne, this is Cullen Rutherford,” Aurora introduced, “Cullen, this is my fiance, Etienne de Rousseau.” Aurora noted the small bit of a surprised look come to Cullen’s face. She had little idea why, it had been ten years since her silly crush. Or maybe it was merely because two mages, engaged. It was more than likely that. It was unheard of outside of The Tevinter Imperium, after all. “Etienne, Cullen was a templar guard at Kinloch Hold for a short bit.” There was no need to go into further details.

Etienne’s face lit up with slight recognition at the name and he took a step forward, extending his hand. “Ah, yes, Cullen Rutherford, the templar who helped stop Meredith, correct?” 

“Former templar now, but yes.” Cullen took the other man’s hand and shook it. 

Etienne had noticed Cullen’s tone and cleared his throat. “I do not think all Templars bad, Evangeline from my Circle was always one we could trust. She treated us well and even stood up for us when Seeker Lambert went out of line.” He paused and gave Cullen a small, reassuring smile. “Despite everything at Kirkwall, it was good for you to step in when you did. You spared quite a few lives with it.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said warmly, a bit of a small smile coming to his face. Aurora wondered how many people had essentially spat in his face when they realized who he was. “Perhaps with this conclave, mages and templars can have a better relationship.”

“Yes, the core of the templars is not so different than what the mages wish for,” Etienne agreed, “all we want is to be able to learn and be who we are in peace. Without fear. Just as the templars wish for themselves, no?”

“You make a good point,” Cullen responded civilly. “There’s been enough bloodshed, for both sides.” The sound of his name being called drew Cullen’s attention. “Now, my apologies, but I must excuse myself. Duty calls.”

Etienne gave a nod to him, polite as ever. “It was good to meet you, Cullen, perhaps we can continue this discussion later.” 

“I would not be opposed,” Cullen agreed then nodded to Aurora. “It was good to see you again, Aurora.” With that, he turned to head off to where his name had been called from. Aurora watched after him for a moment, brows furrowed a bit.

“I assume there’s more than what you said,” Etienne commented, but didn’t push.

“No, no, he, well, he had a crush on my sister,” Aurora explained, “and I, being a child, had a silly little crush on him. A lovely mess Dazbo took pleasure in, I assure you.”

“Well, I suppose he’s got that dashing humble charm about him,” Etienne mused as they walked along the road. “What, with that tall, Fereldan build, curly blond hair, probably looked terribly dashing to a young apprentice.” He gave her a teasing grin as she looked away, disgruntled and flustered by his teasings. “But from the sounds of it, your sister didn’t…?”

“My sister ran off with an elf who was an assassin or something,” Aurora laughed, “I’m not sure what to label Zevran as. But do you really think, considering that fact, she’d be interesting in a dashing knight in shimmering armor?”

Etienne playfully seemed to be contemplating this, rubbing his chin in false deep thought. “You make a valid point...He does not seem to be her type at all! You, on the other hand, seem very fond of dashing men.” He threw her a devilish grin, causing her to laugh.

Aurora pressed a gentle kiss to cheek, smiling gently as he turned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh yes, quite dashing.” She paused, looking up at him with warm affection and his gaze matching her own. “It’s in the past, though, and doesn’t matter. I have you, after all.”

“And I’m glad you’ll have me,” he hummed, tilting her chin a bit to kiss her soundly on the lips. “Now, we’d best hurry, the negotiations are starting soon.”

The sound of someone calling for help caught Aurora’s attention. She turned to look, seeing one of the local women-a midwife’s assistance from the look of her clothes-running through the crowd. Aurora exchanged a glance with Etienne and untangled herself from him, moving to meet the woman.

“What’s the matter?” Aurora asked the young woman gently.

“Oh, milady, please, Margaret, her labor...It’s taken long and Charlotte don’t know how long she’ll last,” the woman spoke rapidly. “She thought a mage or someone here could help!”

“It’s alright, I’m a mage, and I specialize in healing,” Aurora calmed the woman. She looked over her shoulder to Etienne. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up once this is done! They’ll be doing introductions for at least five hours.”

“Alright, make sure that baby and mother are healthy and happy!” Etienne called, turning to head up the road.

“I will!” Aurora waved before following after the midwife’s assistant, winding through the streets and the crowd headed in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

The cries of the mother to be echoed in the small room, Aurora seated beside her and doing her best to keep her from fading. The midwife, a plump woman of many good years, kept giving words of encouragement, of how well she was doing, of how soon it would be over. The difficult part would soon pass, Aurora had made sure of it. And soon enough, the sounds of a baby crying mingled into the room.

“You did lovely, Margaret,” Aurora whispered gently, brushing her hair back. The danger of the labor was past, but she knew there were other concerns to happen. A few checks, a few magic spells, and then she’d be stable to spend time with her new child.

“You have a healthy baby boy,” Charlotte stated, giving the cleaned up baby to the new mother. “He’ll be strong, too, and help Henry with the farm.” 

Margaret, exhausted but stable, cooed at the babe in her arms, relieved it was over. Aurora gave a small smile, rising to stand but the woman caught her wrist. Aurora looked down in surprise but only saw grateful, tired eyes looking at her.

“Thank you.” It was weak but Aurora could hear the gratitude even at that. She gave a warm, gentle smile, taking the woman’s hand in hers and giving a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re very welcome.” With that, Aurora moved to leave and head to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She paused at the door, looking up the mountain to the imposing building, standing starkly against the cold white snow. She had to hurry, she was sure they’d begin anytime—

A flash of green light and the sound of an explosion broke through Aurora’s thoughts, and she quickly looked away. Yet when she looked back, she saw no Temple standing above the mountains. She saw nothing but ruin...And a green cut in the sky.

 

* * *

 

Seigfried had gotten the supplies he would need for the trip back home. He knew he had to deal with this, but he had to try to be smart. His father had always told him he flew into matters far too quickly. He was sure he’d tell him that now, with how he was rushing off to deal with this lord. But he wasn’t going to be insulted and have his elder brother suffer the consequences in his stead.

The distant sound of an explosion rattled his ears, though, pulling him out of his hot blooded state. He and his servant turned to look back, seeing a green light within the sky. Seigfried’s eyes widened, realizing where it centered upon.

“My lord!” His servant shouted but Seigfried was already urging his horse back to Haven, back to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The manservant followed after, his own horse not able to keep up with Seigfried’s.

His mind was racing, concerns and fear clawing at the back of it. What happened? Where were his father and brother? What of Myrrdin? The Divine? All the people who had gone to the negotiations? He had to get there, he had to find out. He raced through the mountains, not letting anything slow his steed. He didn’t know what, but he knew he had to do something.


	3. Chapter 2

Seigfried raced to the entrance to the Temple, only to be stopped by guards trying to keep as many people back as possible. They weren’t letting anyone even near the blasted mountain! There was already a crowd, worried friends, family, spouses...He narrowed his gaze a bit, examining the surroundings. There had to be a way, a path, something...There!

Dismounting his horse, he moved through the woods to the possible opening he had spotted. It was small, barely noticeable unless one was, well, his sort of person. Plus people were so intent to get there, they wouldn’t even bother thinking outside of the box. Mass thought and panic often caused people to view things in a singular way.

Seigfried felt someone grip his sleeve, and his hand went to his dagger. He turned about, ready for a fight, only to see a woman with bright blue eyes looking at him sternly.

“I am not going to not go,” he hissed at her, pulling his sleeve out of her grip. He put his dagger back on his belt, fixing his jacket and turning to continue on his path.

“Neither am I,” she countered and he stopped. Seigfried realized she, too, was looking for a way to the Temple. He examined her more closely, noticing the staff and the style of robes. A mage. “But it would be better to go together than apart,” she pointed out, practically. “Aurora Amell.” She walked past him on the trail down to the frozen river, away from the shut gates. Seigfried watched after her for a moment, surprised by her boldness, before deciding to follow.

“Seigfried Trevelyan.” He noted how she had her staff at the ready and pulled his bow and an arrow, just in case. “So, want to tell me what happened?”

“I’ve no idea,” Aurora stated, her eyes focused forward, “yet there seems to be a stronger connection now between this world and the Fade, so we need to be careful about demons...And Maker knows what else.”

“Well, that’s comforting...How could that happen?”

“I’m not sure, I just can feel it, it’s unnatural,” she explained as they went up the bank. “As if I’m dreaming but….Not.”

“I do that all the time, it’s called daydreaming,” Seigfried joked, earning a raised brow from her. “I thought it was funny.” The pair trudged on his silence, Seigfried figured it better to stay alert anyway and the woman was intent on her aim. He waited a bit before speaking again, keeping an eye out for the patrols. “So I take it you knew— _ know _ —someone who attended the Conclave?”

She did not respond right away, holding her hand up as she noticed something in the distance. She let out a low breath and the hair on the back of Seigfried’s neck stood on end. He raised his quiver, looking where Aurora was. Lurking just through the trees was a flaming creature, a blob of lava and fire lurking in the snow. He narrowed his gaze at it, wondering what good an arrow made of wood and iron could do against  _ that _ . As if sensing his thoughts, Aurora murmured under her breath and Seigfried noticed the arrow grow cold.

“On the count of three.” She prepared herself and Seigfried’s gaze narrowed, jaw tightening. “One.” The demon seemed to sense something. “Two.” It turned towards them. “Three.” At once, Seigfried let his arrow fly straight through the demon’s eye, coupled with the icy blast from Aurora. Her strike hit first and it was a good thing, because Seigfried’s arrow shattered the frozen demon.

“Ha! That was fantastic! Absolutely gorgeous!” His enthusiasm brought the slightest quip of a smile to the woman’s face. Good, he got both their minds off the possible horrors they were to find. Even if for a moment because both their eyes trailed up to the ruins, up to the green hole in the sky.

“We’d best get moving,” Aurora spoke grimly, making her way up the path.

 

* * *

 

Where was he? Why couldn’t he recall how he’d gotten there? Everything was confusing and seemed painfully surreal. Almost as if it wasn’t real, just a haze. But a haze of what? His head hurt but more importantly...His  _ hand _ hurt. He couldn’t make sense as to why and merely pushed himself up, trying to ignore the onsetting dizzy spell.

Myrrdin stumbled a bit, his knees shaky. He let out a breath followed by a staggering cough. He looked about him, trying to make sense of it. He had to find her. Who ‘her’ was, he wasn’t sure. But he needed to try, get his mind straightened out. He needed to make some sense and—

Creators, why did his hand hurt so bad?

 

* * *

 

Battle echoed through the valley, paired with unworldly noises. It was deafening with the roar of the winds from the tear above. It was disorienting for most. But Aurora kept her mind clear, focused. She had to get to the Temple and find Etienne. She couldn’t let her steps falter or her focus, steeling her will against the pulls of the void above. She could hear the whisperings tinge the back of her mind, but she ignored them and pressed forward.

She was pleased to have come across the man who had the same goal in mind. Working together and having him there kept her grounded. He was just as desperate to get to the Temple as she was, for what reason, she did not know. He’d asked her if she knew someone at the Conclave. She supposed he did as well. Why else would he be fighting demons with such a fury and lack of care for his own well being? Someone important to him must have been at the Conclave.

Aurora watched as Seigfried struck a finishing blow with a dagger to a demon, the last wave before they reached the Temple. She looked up at the ruins, stark and black against the green hued sky. She felt apprehension tickling up her spine and her hands gripped at her staff a bit more firmly as she stood there, so hard her knuckles began to turn white.

Seigfried seemed to notice and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, not saying anything, but urging her forward gently. They were both terrified of what they may find, she knew. He put on a flippant attitude, but she knew he was as terrified as she. She supposed his humor was his manner of dealing with stress. And this was certainly a stressful situation.

“Well, shouldn’t keep them waiting.” His voice was deathly still, almost sounding like a Tranquil. She knew he was trying to hide any emotion, though. There was the smallest quiver to his tone, after all.

Aurora obliged him, though, not speaking but merely moving forward through the deep snow. The heat and adrenaline of battle had kept her from noticing the cold or how wet their clothing had become and she shivered as the wind cut through her. The sudden weight on her shoulders surprised her and she realized Seigfried had set his traveling cloak upon her shoulders, ignoring the cold himself.

“Thank you,” she murmured and he simply nodded. 

The path to the Temple felt dead, empty, hollow. There was nothing save for the snow and the barren trees. Beyond the roar of the tear in the sky, it was still. As they entered, Aurora and Seigfried both noted the corpses littered about. They were not identifiable, only skeletons of their former selves. Their skin was burned off and their bones blackened, clothing in tatters so it was only a guess as to the house symbols, colors, and fabrics. Aurora covered her mouth and Seigfried swallowed tightly. The sinking truth stabbed at both of them slowly, turning as it did so. They realized there seemed to have been no hope for anyone to survive.

The sound of metal clashing and shouting alerted them to battle nearby. They hurried down the broken corridors, doing their best to mind and ignore the corpses scattered about. In a clearing, they spotted a green spinning portal and two guards fighting off demons, long, tall, green terrible things. And they seemed to be swarmed. Seigfried acted quickly, pulling an arrow out and taking aim, striking one right between the eyes. Aurora followed suit, aiming a magical blast at another. The demons shrieked, the sound painfully piercing but Seigfried and Aurora refused to falter until the last one fell.

“Thank you, my lords,” one of the guards huffed out. “If you hadn’t come—”

“What happened here?” Seigfried interjected and Aurora examined the portal.

“We’re not sure, we were guarding the perimeter when it just…”

“Someone’s coming,” Aurora interjected, looking at the form. “Someone’s behind them too...A woman.” The guards and Seigfried looked in surprise at the portal, sure enough seeing two forms. But only one came through.

“Myrrdin!” Seigfried shouted, but the guards beat him to the elf. They grabbed him roughly and Seigfried rushed over, temper flared. “You bastards, can’t you see he’s unconscious! What danger’s he gonna be?!” He went to push the two off of his friend only to feel the cool touch of a blade near his neck.

“I suggest you let them work.” The accent was distinctly Nevarran. The voice was cold, serious, and unwavering. Seigfried didn’t move for a moment, jaw clenching tight as green eyes glared at the guards. He finally turned to face the woman, stern gaze meeting her own dark one. He glared down at the woman with short, dark hair, a scar dancing up her left jawline. In any other instance, he was sure he would think her pretty, terrifying, but pretty, but at that moment, he only felt annoyance.

He shoved her blade to the side, taking a step closer. “What danger is an unconscious man to be?” His voice was low, heated, and daring her to make a move. She did not falter in her step and her gaze narrowed more. The air seemed to build and become heated between them, neither refusing to back down from the other.

“He may still prove a danger,” the woman countered, pushing past Seigfried as if the tall man was made of feathers.  “We do not know the cause of it and yet here he is, walking out of a rift. No other survivors have been found and you two were not in attendance, correct?”

“That would be correct, my lady Seeker,” Aurora spoke up before Seigfried’s temper did. “I was in the village attending to a woman in difficult labor—”

“And I was on my way back to Ostwick for personal reasons,” Seigfried admitted begrudgingly, kicking the dirt. He paused, getting a thought. “Wait, are you thinking Myrrdin did this?”

“Is that his name then?” The Nevarran inquired.

“Yes, he’s from Clan Lavellan, in the Free Marches.” He made his way over beside her, scowling. “There is no way this man did such a thing.”

“You know him personally?”

“I do. He’s a good friend.”

“Your names,” the woman barked the order, looking between the pair. “Now.”

“Aurora Amell, my lady, formerly of the Fereldan Circle,” Aurora answered quickly, giving a polite bow of her head. “My...Fiance. He was here. Have you...Found anything of Etienne de Rousseau?”

“We have not been able to identify many,” the woman explained, her voice a little softer, “but I will let you know if we come across any identifiers of this de Rousseau.” Her gaze sharpened and turned to Seigfried, who met her icy glare with one of fire.

“Seigfried Trevelyan,” he finally relented, “my younger brother and father were in attendance.”

“And so you both sneaked past the guards to come up here and find out the fate of your loved ones.” Her tone was harsh, accusing, and full of suspicion.

“Well, perhaps your guards should do a better job at, well,  _ guarding  _ the paths,” Seigfried responded dryly, not enjoying where she may be headed with that. Was she suggesting either of them had something to do with this?! People were dead, wrongly killed and while Seigfried had done a few things he wasn’t proud of, this was something he definitely would not do.

The woman didn’t seem to appreciate his remark, the way her brow knit together and jaw clenched—he was amazed at how much more she could scowl! Yet he didn’t back down a bit from her, his own jaw tightening. Tension hung thick in the air only to be broken up by a new voice.

“Perhaps this is not the time or place for this,” Cullen’s commanding but calm voice pierced the tension. “The portal closed after he left but there may still be demons lingering about.”

“I agree,” Aurora added, looking between the pair, “while you can stand to be gentler with the prisoner, since we do not know his guilt, this is not the place for you two to argue.”

Any further discussion was interrupted by the tear in the sky growing, causing a green glow on Myrrdin’s left hand and causing him to cry out in distress, even unconscious. Seigfried rushed over as the guards back away from him and managed to catch him before he fell.

“Aurora!” Seigfried called to the mage and she made her way over, examining the wound. She looked up at him and then to the others, shaking her head.

She had no idea what it was or what to do with it.

“I may be of assistance to the boy,” a calm, collected voice seemed to cut through the panic. Seigfried looked up to see an elf standing at the entrance. He had no vallaslin, like Myrrdin had, and he was pale, as if awakened from a slumber. No hair adorned his head and his eyes were a slender, calm grey blue.

“Please, he has a small daughter back with the clan!”

“Solas, do what you can,” the seeker ordered, allowing the elven mage to Myrrdin. “We need him alive to answer questions.”

“I may have need your assistance as well,” the man named Solas spoke to Aurora as he knelt down beside them. “It will take some mana to do what needs to be done.”

“I will gladly help save him,” Aurora offered and the two began to work, magic flowing together seamlessly to help control the unknown wound.

 

* * *

 

The room was dark, away from the noise of the battle. The only light being the candle on the center of the table and a few torches along the stone wall. Seigfried and Aurora sat around the table with the woman from the Temple, Cullen, and a red haired woman they’d only just met an hour or so ago. The Seeker had finally revealed herself to be Cassandra Pentaghast yet quickly shut down any questions Seigfried asked about her surname. The other woman, with her short red hair and keen blue eyes which seemed to know more about everyone in the room than they themselves knew was named Leliana. Seigfried’s gaze, more so glare, remained on the Seeker, though, apparently put off by her assumptions.

“Your friend is safe for now,” Cassandra began, “you can stop trying to kill me with your eyes.”

“He’s only safe because Solas  _ theorized _ the mark in his hand can seal the rifts,” Seigfried spat out, leaning forward on the table. “What will you do if it doesn’t? You’ve presumed his guilt as it is and I’m telling you he’s not guilty.”

“You assume I’ll choose to be his executioner?”

“Damn right I do.” He wasn’t about to back down and the other three in the room felt the tension rising between the two again.

“We have no leads,” Cullen tried to reason, “and your friend is a mage, so one would think—”

“Oh, because he’s a mage, you automatically assume guilt as well?” Aurora butted in, giving Cullen a cool gaze.

“I did not mean anything by that, Lady Aurora,” Cullen defended himself, “but no one else could have done this.”

“I know of no ability to do this, magic or no,” she shot back, “there may be more at work here than one Dalish mage.”

“Him being Dalish brings in another point,” Cassandra added. “You are acquainted with Circle Magic, what you’ve been taught...The Dalish are taught differently.”

“Oh, so now you’re bringing his people into this?” Venom laced Seigfried’s tone as he stood up, hands on the table. “That’s bullshit and you know it! You’re grasping at straws!”

“Oh, you think so?!” Cassandra was now on her feet as well, glaring at the man across the table.

“You’re scared, so you’re finding a ‘reasonable’ scapegoat,” Seigfried snarled. “Well guess what, sweetheart. We’re all scared. But some of us can damn well see that what you’re thinking is blighted shit!”

Aurora and Cullen seemed to be thinking the same thing, both cautiously standing to make sure both parties didn’t start fighting. There’d been a thick tension between the two since they’d met at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, butting heads constantly. Perhaps now was when it would erupt.

“Right now, your friend is the only way we will get answers,” Leliana’s Orlesian accent cut through the tension like a dagger. “And fighting over what ifs isn’t going to do us much good. Cullen needs to return to the troops and I need to send out some scouts.”

“Send me as well,” Seigfried requested, “it’s better than sitting here and waiting for Miss-High-And-Mighty to make her decision.”

“How dare you—”

“I’ll help the scouting party as well,” Aurora interrupted, hoping to cease more hostilities. “A mage might help them if they encounter any demons.”

“A wise choice,” Cullen agreed with a nod. “Just make sure you both are careful out there.”

“The same to you, Cullen,” Aurora returned the sentiment, getting a slight smile from the tired man. The three gathered their items, Seigfried and Cassandra exchanging one more scathing look before they departed. Cassandra let out an annoyed breath as the left, eyes flicking to Leliana.

“I don’t see why we invited them to these discussions,” she seethed, folding her arms and leaning against the table.

“Because it’s good to have other views on a complicated matter,” Leliana explained, “and Seigfried Trevelyan is the highest ranked nobleman here with ties to both the templars and Chantry while Aurora Amell is one of the most respected mages. She apparently worked as Wynne’s assistant for a time. We play nice and it’ll appease the different groups here.”

“For a nobleman, he has the eloquence of a pig,” Cassandra scoffed. “I’d like to rebreak his nose.”

Before Leliana could reply, the door to the room opened. Both turned to see a guard looking at them, breath quaking. He had run to them full speed, then.

“He’s waking up.”


	4. Chapter 3

Pain, dizzy, nausea. Those were the feelings coming to his mind. Confusion stung the most prominent, though. He was sitting up. On his knees? He tried to stretch his arms only to find them shackled. He opened his bleary eyes, vision fuzzy at first. It was dark. Was it dark because of how he felt or was it actually dark? He swore he saw the shimmer of blades in the molten shadows. He wasn’t sure. His head felt heavy.

Myrrdin felt that throbbing pain once again in his hand. He wanted to vomit, it hurt so bad. He glanced down at his hands, seeing very well they were bound with a wood plank. His left hand was clenched tight, the pain still tingling in the limb. Slowly, he opened it. He must have gotten a cut or something. He wasn’t sure.

A sudden flash of green light and even worse pain shot through him. Oh, he knew he was going to vomit. He let out a pain filled cry, doubling over at it. What was that? What was happening? Why couldn’t he remember? The sudden sound of the door opening only caused him to wince in pain. The shadows beyond the threshold were blurry silhouettes, but looking about himself, yes, there were four swords pointed right at him.

What in the all of Thedas had happened?

His guard immediately went up as the two imposing women entered. A Seeker Symbol stood in a stark white against one of their armors while the other’s features were hidden beneath the cowl of a hood. The guard’s swords were sheathed and the Seeker circled him like a hawk and he tightened his jaw, eyes narrowing as he began to think. He watched her closely but his attention drew to the hooded woman as she neared. Her expression was apprehensive but also seeming to try to pull him apart, learn aspects of him, and he guarded himself even more.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you  _ now _ .” The Seeker’s voice was like ice ebbing against his ear, chilling him to his very core. Kill him now? What for? “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead.” He felt a tinge of a memory but pain, causing him to wince. “Except for you.”

The sinking realization settled heavily in his stomach. They believed him to be the reason for what had happened, whatever it was. They couldn’t even imagine it being someone or something else. He was a Dalish mage, of course they would pin it on him. And no matter what he said, they would kill him. Shemlen were impulsive like that.

Myrrdin didn’t respond, only narrowed his eyes at the Seeker. She seemed to dislike that and roughly grabbed his left wrist, lifting his hand up and Myrrdin felt a spark of pain from the mark in his hand. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying out, staring at her defiantly.

“Explain this.” With that, she roughly dropped his wrist and he was sure he’d have a bruise on his thigh from how roughly the plank landed on his lap. Well, he had to admit that was incriminating.

“I….Can’t.” And that probably didn’t help.

“What do you mean you  _ ‘can’t’ _ ?!” The Seeker snapped, disbelief strong in her tone.

“I  _ don’t  _ know what that is or how it got there!” Fear penetrated his words. He was going to die. He was going to be killed for something he didn’t do. He didn’t think he did anything. No, he didn’t do anything, he was just...Observing. Why was his memory fuzzy?

“You’re lying!” Her sharp words and her rough grip pulled him from his panicked thoughts and he looked at her with wide eyes.

Luckily the other woman swooped in, pulling the Seeker back. “We  _ need  _ him, Cassandra.” Cassandra, that must have been the Seeker’s name. Wait, they needed him? Needed him for what? Did he want to know?

“I don’t understand,” he managed out, looking between the two women.

“Do you remember what happened?” The hooded woman asked, no, demanded. Her voice was softer than the other’s but held just as much authority. “How this began?”

Myrrdin thought hard, trying to pull any memory, any inkling at all. The strain caused him to scowl, his head to hurt, and his brows to knit together. He swallowed and started to piece something together. “I...Remember running.” Shadows in the fog. “ _ Things _ were chasing me and then…” A blinding white gold light in the shape of… “A woman.”

“A woman?!” The Hood folded her arms, waiting for an explanation.

“She...reached out to me,” Myrrdin continued. “But then…” He let out a frustrated sigh. It was on the edge of his memory, just out of his reach. He could feel it tickling the borders of his mind but he couldn’t make it materialize.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” Cassandra lead Leliana to the door, both looking back at the confused and disgruntled elf. “I will take him to the rift.” Leliana gave a small nod before turning and leaving, letting Cassandra contend with Myrrdin. She moved over and undid his shackles and he looked at her, lost and confused.

“What  _ did _ happen?”

“It…” She paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. She only helped him to his feet, beginning to tie his hands. “Will be easier to show you.” When his hands were secure, she took a step back, as if re-examining him. He stood there with a questioning and curious look on his face but fear and distraught laced on the edge of his gaze. Easier to show? That sounded cryptic. He looked down as she lead him down the dark corridor, trying to put missing pieces together. He saw the way the guard looked at him and he was sure one may just stab him in the back when he wasn’t looking. The guard still opened the door to the outside at Cassandra’s behest.

The light was nearly blinding compared to the darkness of the cell he had been kept in. The cold, moving air was a welcome change to the stagnant air in the dark. Yet the hair on the back of his neck stood on ends, his instincts telling him something wasn’t right. He blinked a few times, his sight adjusting to the bright whiteness around him. Yet a brighter, cracking sound caused him to raise his hands to block his eyes—

And then he saw it. A giant, gaping hole in the sky. A vortex of energy, a bridge of realms. It swirled like a storm, raining down green light. It crackled threatening and Myrrdin swore it seemed to hunger to devour the whole sky, enveloping the world in its eerie green light. It was unnatural and caused Myrrdin’s stomach to churn. Yet it also raised a curiosity deep within him. What was it? What was the cause of it? How was it made? It seemed to have some connection to the Beyond…

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra explained, pulling his attention from the wound in the sky to the woman. She was standing a few feet off and also gazing up at it. Myrrdin couldn’t see her expression, but her tone was serious. Something he was learning was a key personality trait of hers. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.” She turned back to Myrrdin and sure enough, her face was grimly serious. “It’s not the only such rift; just the largest.” Myrrdin turned his gaze back up, brows furrowing as he started to think on what he was told. “ _ All _ were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Well, that wasn’t typical. He looked back to her, disbelief in his eyes. He’d never heard of such a thing, not even when the mage Anders blew up the Kirkwall Chantry. “An explosion can do that?”

“ _ This _ one did.” So she knew what he had thought of. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.” A rumbling from the sky was heard, like rocks crashing against each other and it echoed against the mountains. Cassandra looked up and Myrrdin followed suit, seeing the Breach expand.

Searing pain. He felt as if his hand was being torn. He let out an anguished shout, falling to his knees as his hands raised to the Breach. The mark was...Reacting to it?! So the Breach and the mark were somehow connected to each other. Typically, he would have found that fascinating but currently, he was bent over in pain and begging for it to stop. He cradled his hand beneath him, trying to will it to stop. Just stop the pain.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads.” Myrrdin looked up to see Cassandra had knelt before him, explaining it more. “And it  _ is  _ killing you.” Ah, so he  _ wouldn’t _ be killed by zealous shemlen, but a mark on his hand! Fantastic. “It may be the key to stopping this but there isn’t much time.”

That was a turn. He was sure in the prison she would gut him like a fish. And now she’s trying to plead with him for help. Myrrdin felt a bit insulted and wasn’t entirely sure how to respond at first.

“You...You still think I did this?!” He finally managed out, disbelief and fear in his voice. “To myself?!” He really, honestly, couldn’t believe any of this. Perhaps he’d wake up and it was all a nightmare.

“Not intentionally.” At least one thing was consistent; her seriousness and apparent lack of concern for him! “But something... _ Clearly _ went wrong.”

“And if I’m not responsible?!”

“ _ Someone _ is. And  _ you  _ are our only suspect.” Myrrdin supposed miraculously living through an explosion which killed everyone else in a ten mile radius and ripped a hole between this world and the Beyond was rather incriminating but he had no motive! “You wish to prove your innocence?” That offer caught his attention. “This is the only way.”

He looked down at his hand, seeming to think about that. The only way? He wasn’t the type to just sit back and he knew this Breach could reach home. Could reach his family, his little Eleri. “You said it may be the key….To doing what?”

“Closing the Breach.” She seemed to have gotten some patience in speaking with him. He vaguely wondered if her opinion was changing. “Whether that’s possible is something we’ll discover shortly.” And now he was apprehensive of what she meant. “It is our only chance, however. And yours.”

Life or death decisions were never Myrrdin’s favorite activity. And yet here was one laid out before him. Ah yes, have the fate of the entire world weighted upon his shoulders. What a pleasant idea! He never should have come. But he knew no one else could do this now and there was no point of considering what ifs. He had to do something, if at least to protect Eleri.

“I understand.”

“Then…?” The surprise was evident in Cassandra’s voice. Had she thought he would refuse? He would try to run?

“I’ll do what I can,” he reassured her, “whatever it takes.”

That seemed to cause her to look at him with different eyes. He noticed she seemed not to be looking at him as a killer now but as something more. Her face remained serious but there was a slight hint of gentleness to it. It surprised him, to say the least. She moved beside him to help him on his feet, keeping a firm grip on his back as she lead him through Haven.

He realized, perhaps her binding his wrists and keeping hold on him was now less for concern he’d run and more out of concern for his safety. The other shemlen were intent on glaring at him, just as the guard had. Despite the hatred burning in their eyes, they did not come near and he was sure it was due to the woman who guided him along.

“They have decided your guilt.” She really needed to stop seeming like she knew what he was thinking all the time. “They  _ need _ it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry.” Myrrdin looked over to Cassandra, hearing the smallest of quivers in her voice. She was good at holding her features, but he saw a sorrow in her dark eyes. “The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between the mages and the templars. She brought their leaders together! Now they are dead…” Just up the path out of Haven, Myrrdin saw the gates open for the path leading up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes or what was left of it. A grim guard watched the two approach and Myrrdin looked over to Cassandra as she continued. “We lash out like the sky but we must think beyond ourselves...As she did. Until the breach is sealed.” 

Cassandra stopped him on the bridge, pulling out a knife. A moment of fear came to his features. What was she planning to do with that? Did she take him out here merely to stab him out of sight of others? His fears ceased, though, when she lifted his hands and used the knife on the ropes binding him, allowing him to move his hands freely.

“There  _ will  _ be a trial,” she explained as he rubbed his wrists, “I can promise no more.” She turned to continue on their path and Myrrdin felt surprise at that. “Come. It is not far.”

“Where are you taking me?” Myrrdin asked, jogging to catch up with her.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach,” she explained as they made their way up the snowy path.

They didn’t talk, which suited Myrrdin just fine. He was still confused, still trying to remember what had happened. It was a blur, he vaguely recalled Maxwell and...Another mage? The more he thought of it, though, the more it hurt. He hated how he couldn’t remember; if he did, that may help his situation. Pain split through his hand again, causing him to crumble on the pathway.

Cassandra noted her charge falling to the ground and moved to help him up gently. She seemed to have changed in how she treated him with his agreement to help. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible...He hoped. Cassandra steadied him on his feet, dark gaze making him want to shrink back. “The pulses are coming faster now.” With that, she continued on the path. She was a woman on a mission. 

But Myrrdin noticed the quickened paced and fixed his own to match hers. He looked up at the rift, noting how it churned and expanded. His eyes widened as he saw a green mass headed straight for them on the bridge.

“Cassandra!” It was too late. The bridge was already collapsing beneath their feet. They both crashed onto the ice below and Myrrdin was thankful it was, apparently, thick enough to take the weight of the bridge and the two of them crashing onto it. He groaned as he pushed himself up, willing some mana to heal the small bumps and bruises he’d gotten. Luckily the wounds weren’t any more severe. He saw another of those green masses flying towards them and Cassandra was already on her feet.

“Stay behind me!” She ordered, rushing towards the Shade which had appeared without second thought. Yet she had not noticed the bubbling green and black mass before Myrrdin. Another demon...He needed something to help him focus. With everything, his mind was scattered and that made his spells less proficient…

There! A staff! He quickly grabbed it, turning to face the Shade which threatened him. Cassandra was too busy with her own and he could handle this himself. He moved to avoid the claws of the beast, turning and firing a well aimed lightning bolt at it. It fell back for a moment but charged with more anger. A smirk came to Myrrdin’s features as he summoned another bolt, weakening it. Another strike and it gave an unworldly wail as it was destroyed. Well, that wasn’t too bad. He looked to where Cassandra fought hers, seeing she’d done decent damage but they hadn’t time. He took aim again, only to watch Cassandra land the final blow.

“It’s over,” he breathed, seeing no others appearing as he walked towards Cassandra. Over for now. They still had quite a bit to contend with.

“Drop your weapon.” The order surprised Myrrdin and he turned to look at her. She had her blade pointed right at him and he swore she would cut him down there. “ _ Now _ .” He couldn’t believe she was...It was a blighted staff! He was a mage! This was….

“If you’re going to lead me through a demon infested valley,” he challenged, “you’ll  _ have  _ to trust me.”

“Give me one good reason to trust you.”

“Because my  _ life  _ is on the line.”

She seemed to chew on that little fact a bit more. She examined him, still not putting her blade away. And he did not lower his staff. There was tension for a few moments until Cassandra finally conceded, letting out a breath.

“You’re right.” She sheathed her sword and Myrrdin felt his shoulders relax. “You don’t need a staff. But you should have one. I cannot protect you.” She turned to continue on the path and Myrrdin raised his brows a bit. Had she just admitted to being wrong? The world was ending then. He started to follow after her when she turned to look at him again. “I should remember you agreed to come willingly.”

“Well I think this is a start to a beautiful friendship,” Myrrdin responded with a quick and dry wit.

“Don’t push it,” Cassandra warned, gaze narrowing, turning back to the path. They continued to follow the frozen river, fighting more demons as they appeared. Myrrdin noticed the stone steps up the embankment and Cassandra did as well. “It’s not much further now.”

Sure enough, Myrrdin could hear the sound of battle not far off. They continued on their trek, getting nearer to the source. He saw something glowing green just above the ridge. “You can hear the fighting, we have to help them!” She was already sword drawn and up the hill.

“Who are they?!” Myrrdin asked, rushing after her. Sure enough, soldiers as well as an elf and dwarf were fighting by a smaller rift. Cassandra and Myrrdin leapt into action, Cassandra charging in while lightning laced about Myrrdin’s fingers. With their assistance, they managed to be able to fell the demons quickly and Myrrdin rushed over to the group. The sound of the rift was rushing winds about them, deafening and terrifying. Yet Myrrdin paid attention to the allies, wondering of any injuries.

“Is everyone al—”

“Quickly, before more come through!” The elf grabbed his left wrist, taking his hand and pressing it against the rift. Myrrdin’s eyes widened, a fear and uncertainty running through him…

As well as an unfamiliar feeling.


	5. Chapter 4

It felt as if the energy underneath his hand was weaving in and out, all around, stitching up a wound. It caused his fingers to tingle in excitement at the foreign feelings flowing in and around him. He held his breath, eyes wide as the rift started to shrink as the other man held his hand up to it. Myrrdin let out a gasp as it finally vanished, his mind racing with the possibilities of what had just occurred.

“What did you do?” It couldn’t have been him, could it? It had to be this other elven mage who seemed to know exactly what to do. But then...The tingling remained in his hand. Perhaps he had done something…

The paler elf seemed to know what he was thinking and an amused, small smile came to his features. “ _ I  _ did nothing...The credit is yours.”

Myrrdin pondered that for a second. No, no, he didn’t know this sort of magic, he’d never even heard the Keeper discuss it. He could not have done it, not without some connection. And a connection in his hand.

“You mean  _ this _ ?” He looked down at the glowing green scar on his hand. Yes, it made sense...He hadn’t had it before the Conclave…

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rift in the Breach’s wake. And it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” Myrrdin looked towards Cassandra as she spoke, considering the possibility. It had taken energy for him to close even that size of a rift. He would have to learn how to handle the magic better to deal with something the size of the Breach.

“Possibly,” the elf agreed, looking from Cassandra to Myrrdin. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.” Well, that was a burden he hadn’t ever expected to have. He felt his nerves bundling up, his mind racing on the best way to go about this...New duty.

“Good to know,” a new voice chimed in, breaking the weight which had settled upon the group. “And here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” 

Myrrdin turned to the dwarf as he walked over to the three, a swagger of confidence in his step. Despite being in this blighted situation, he had an ease about him which caused others to relax as well. Myrrdin was trying to figure out if that was a good or bad thing. The oddity of this dwarf was he had no blond beard to match his blond hair. The most he had was some five o’clock shadow, but not much else. Perhaps his beard had fallen onto his chest, judging by what Myrrdin could see from the open shirt. He vaguely wondered how he wasn’t freezing, but then recalled the chest hair.

“Varric Tethras,” he introduced himself. “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag along.” He threw a wink at Cassandra, earning a scowl from the woman.

“I’m Myrrdin Raserniel, of clan Lavellan,” Myrrdin responded then noted the crossbow. “That’s a nice crossbow you have there!”

“Ah, isn’t she?” Varric seemed rather proud of the artfully crafted weapon. “Bianca and I have been through a lot together.”

“You  _ named _ your crossbow Bianca?” Amusement and curiosity laced within Myrrdin’s voice. That made it sound like the crossbow had its own story.

“Of course! And she’ll be great company in the valley.” Perhaps he wouldn’t explain that now, then.

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra huffed, stepping forwards. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but—”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore.” He shot her a knowing smirk, his voice dropping a decibel. “You  _ need  _ me.” Cassandra paused for a moment before letting out a disgusted but defeated grunt, turning away. And that seemed to be another story Myrrdin would like to hear.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Myrrdin turned to his fellow elf, noting the friendly but distant look in his grey hued eyes. He could understand that; Solas was not Dalish, like he, and he knew some Dalish treated non-Dalish elves with disdain. “I’m pleased to see you live.”

“He means ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept,’” Varric interjected, amusement glimmering in his green eyes.

Fascination crept into Myrrdin’s mind. This older elven mage had known enough magic to be able to keep an unknown magic from tearing him apart. He had a million questions, a million thoughts flying about his head on the matter. It would take someone versed in the Beyond to be able to do such a thing, by his calculations.

“How did you...Do that?”

“Healing magic and minor wards,” Solas explained, “but I fear your mark is now past the point where those will help you.” His gaze turned to Cassandra before speaking again. “Cassandra, you should know. The magic involved here is unlike any I’ve seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine  _ any _ mage having such power.”

“Understood.” There was a hint of resignation in her tone. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.” She was already headed off, nothing to impede her pace. Solas started off after her as well, leaving Myrrdin and Varric there.

“Well...Bianca’s excited,” Varric joked, walking past Myrrdin. At least if he died, Myrrdin figured he’d be in humorous company.

The forward camp was a choke point on a bridge. There were a few soldiers scattered here and about, looking exhausted and hopeless. It was a losing battle as long as the Breach remained open, Myrrdin knew, and the soldiers knew it as well. He had to do something, no matter what the cost. He looked down at his hand, brow furrowing in determination.

“You made it,” Leliana greeted the group, relief in her tone. “Chancellor Roderick, this is—”

“I  _ know _ who he is,” the chantry man snapped, clearly displeased with the whole situation.  His small, dark eyes held a disgust for Myrrdin as he sneered at him, the greying stubble  on his face outlining the angered set of his pale jaw. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!”

“Order me?” Cassandra responded hotly, indignation evident. “You are a glorified  _ clerk _ . A beaurocrat!”

“And you are a  _ thug _ ,” Roderick shot back at her, “but a thug who  _ supposedly _ serves the Chantry!”

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor,” Leliana interjected, seeming to try to calm the matter. She looked over to Cassandra, a warning in her gaze. “As you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Roderick shouted, having enough of the two of them. “We must elect her replacement and obey  _ her _ orders on the matter.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” The anger and disgust was evident in Myrrdin’s voice, despite how level he kept it. He was tired of standing there like some doll for children to fight over. The Chantry was infamous for disregarding elves and their thoughts on matters, after all! He was just a savage heathen and therein, didn’t have the right to weigh in on a conversation about himself!

“You shouldn’t even be here!” Roderick threw back, seeming to be at his wits end. Of course, that seemed to please Cassandra bit, a flick of a brief smirk on her features as she neared the table. “Call a retreat, Seeker,” the man begged. “Our position here is hopeless.”

“We can stop this before it’s too late.” She always seemed to have confidence, at least from Myrrdin could tell. Her tone of voice was forward, and she would not back down from the self-important cleric.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We  _ must  _ get to the temple, it’s the quickest route!”

“But not the safest,” Leliana added to the conversation. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.” 

That seemed...Reasonable. And less foolhardy than a frontal assault. Myrrdin kept his opinions to himself, though, not even sure where he stood in this discussion. He was a tool, not a person to these people, after all.

“We lost contact with an  _ entire _ squad on that path!” Cassandra argued, making Myrrdin consider that fact as well. “It’s too risky!” For shemlen, maybe.

“Listen to me,” Roderick interrupted and Myrrdin started to not listen. Not from boredom, but a throbbing returning to his hand. He could feel it growing, changing, churning against his flesh. And sure enough, the Breach began to expand, silencing the argument. Myrrdin gripped his wrist, gritting his teeth against the pain. Once it had settled, Myrrdin noted all attention was back on him. Ah yes, perfect. He did so enjoy being the center of attention.

“How do  _ you  _ think we should proceed?” Cassandra’s tone was straightforward and it shocked him.

“ _ Now _ you’re asking me what  _ I _ think?” He could not believe—these shemlen and their—now she’s asking him his opinion?! He was virtually ignored and now—

“You have the mark,” Solas stated and that point seemed to quiet some of Myrrdin’s ire.

“And you are the one we must keep alive,” Cassandra added. Oh yes! The tool must be kept alive to be killed after! “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

Charge with a bunch of shemlen soldiers or risk a path of isolation through the mountain pass where demons might be lurking. It was definitely a rock and a hard place, but Myrrdin had a good idea of which he was going to choose.

“Use the mountain pass,” he said, not wanting to be in a group of human soldiers who may just kill him when he wasn’t looking, “work together. You all know what’s at stake!” Varric and Solas started off past the Chancellor and Cassandra paused for a moment.

“Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley.  _ Everyone. _ ”

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker,” Roderick sneered as the group passed.

Once they were out of earshot, Myrrdin muttered, “Charming fellow. I suppose he’s everyone’s favorite at parties.”

“Oh, you know people buy him wine to get him to shut up,” Varric chuckled. The humor gave some relief of the stress of the foreboding old miner’s cave looming above them.

“You know, I would think the demons,” Myrrdin spoke as he cast a spell in the old mining cave, “might have something better to do than lurk about in dark places. Why don’t they head up to Tevinter? I hear it’s lovely this time of the year.”

“Apparently, they missed the brochure!” Varric responded, arrow piercing through a Shade. Myrrdin let out a breath, the last of the fiends being vanquished. His eyes moved over to a door which had been opened during the battle, a shimmer of something just out of the light. He moved towards it, opening the door a little more to reveal what the item was. A shield with a griffon on it...What a peculiar place for it to be. Yet it seemed to make...Sense somewhere in his mind.

“Something interesting?” Cassandra’s voice broke his thought process and he shook his head.

“Only an old abandoned office.” He shut the door, turning to continue on their path. If there was time, and if they survived, maybe they could return.

The gaping exit stood before them, three bodies littering the ground just outside. Myrrdin stayed back a bit as Cassandra and Varric examined the bodies. He exchanged glances with Solas, both knowing what was coming.

“These must be the missing soldiers,” Varric muttered, a tinge of sorrow coloring his voice.

“This cannot be all of them,” Cassandra commented and Myrrdin was sure she knew the exact number of people. “Trevelyan and Amell aren’t here.”

“Trevelyan?” Myrrdin made his way closer to the two. “Which Trevelyan?”

“Your friend, Seigfried,” Cassandra answered, distaste in her voice. “He was your most  _ adamant  _ defender.”

“Well, they may be hold up ahead.” Varric was already headed down the path, apparently hoping for the best. Myrrdin couldn’t blame him; he hoped the others were alive.

“Our priority should be the Breach,” Solas mentioned, seeing how Myrrdin was ready to go searching for the group.

“Perhaps, but we may need back up at the Breach and I trust Seigfried’s arrow any day,” he responded, looking over his shoulder at the other. He gave a slight smile. “I’m sure the Breach will wait for us, Solas.”

“Yes, but how long until your mark kills you, hm?”

“I’ll be fine—” that was a sharp pain and caused him to wince and Solas to raise his brow at him “—really.”

The sound of battle became more evident as they traveled away from the old mine and down the snow covered path. Myrrdin could make out the shapes of people not far off, fighting unnaturally shaped figures. He thought back to the missing scouting party Cassandra had mentioned and realized this must be them.

Myrrdin kept going, intent on his steps. He knew this path would take them to the Temple of Sacred Ashes and it seemed to take them right by. “It’s not out of the way,” he called back, the pain in his left hand growing as he neared the battle. “Besides, I think there’s one of those rifts nearby. Ought to close it while we pass it, right?” Even a little bit could help, he supposed. And if he were to be cursed with this split in his hand, he should use it.

To his surprise, other than just scouts, he saw a dark haired human mage woman, fighting alongside them as well as—

“Myrrdin, you bastard!” Seigfried greeted, preparing another arrow to fire with a confident smirk on his face. “Andraste’s flaming ass, you’re alive!” Well, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Had you any doubt?” Myrrdin shouted back, taking his staff and it humming to life in his hand. He twirled it, readying the energy within it before unleashing the chain of lightning against the demons. They were stunned for a moment, before turning to see the newcomers to the fight.

“No, it just means I win a bet!” 

“Yeah, yeah, keep your trap shut, Yippy,” Varric responded. “Tell you what, the bet’ll be doubled if you get more than me!” He fired Bianca, taking a clean shot at one of the demons.

“Oh, I’ll take you on that, Varric!”

Cassandra struck down a demon with an agitated groan, looking between the two men. “Could you two be serious?! We are in the middle of a fight!”

“If we don’t be, will we be punished?” Myrrdin elected to ignore the flustered look which came across Cassandra’s face at Seigfried’s innuendo. The others seemed to have similar ideas, the female mage he didn’t know focused, bright blue eyes narrowed with a heat as she seemed to dance with a grace unmatched. Solas followed in suit, his movement elegant but with more power to it than the human’s. Myrrdin’s own, while not quite as elegant, held something more...Primal, natural to it. 

His gaze stayed alert, watching the others in the party just in case. In case for them being attacked or them deciding he may be just as useful dead. Maybe the mark would still be usable if he were dead. He wasn’t sure how it worked. This was his first time experiencing this sort of magic, after all. He’d heard it in theory, once or twice, perhaps, but not something in actual practice. 

“Behind you!” He shouted to the female mage, alerting her to the demon which had appeared behind her. She didn’t move fast enough, but Myrrdin had already aimed a shot of lightning at the creature, causing it to stagger back and then be pierced by one of Seigfried’s arrows. It gave an otherworldly wail, crumbling under the two strikes.  The female mage gave a nod of appreciation before aiming her own strike at a demon which ventured too near to an unsuspecting ally.

The battle continued on until the demons were gone, leaving just the rift. Myrrdin felt it shift and felt a pull from his hand. He could close it, now. He could feel it flow through his entire being. Something fascinating and to meditate on at a later time, when there wasn’t a risk of a demon showing up.

Myrrdin lifted his hand to the rift, pulling and threading the realities together. The wound was slowly closing and Myrrdin felt the pull on the mark. He held it together, though, focusing intently on his task before, finally, the rift closed. He let out a low breath, clearing his mind and finding relief in how it seemed to be becoming simpler for him.

“It’s sealed, as before,” Solas breathed, walking up beside him. “You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

“Let’s hope it works on the big one,” Varric chimed in, looking up to the Breach.

“We haven’t got much of a choice,” Seigfried added, picking up some of his arrows. “We pray to the Maker or whatever gods are listening that it does.”

Cassandra had already gone over to the soldiers, Aurora attending to their wounds quietly. Aurora looked up at the Seeker and gave her an understanding and sympathetic look, before moving to help her help one of the soldiers to her feet.

“Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra,” the masked soldier greeted her commander, “I don’t think we could’ve held out much longer.”

“She’s right,” Seigfried added, stepping towards them. Cassandra turned to look at him, a bit surprised. “So...Thanks.”

“Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant and your friend, Lord Trevelyan. He  _ insisted  _ we come this way.”

“The prisoner?!” Well, the shock was evident in her voice. “Then you…”

“Then we owe you our thanks,” the mage spoke up, inclining her head.

“Closing rifts and saving soldiers...It’s what I do.” Completely ignore the fact he didn’t want to deal with an entire army of human soldiers and play it as a noble gesture. The response got an amused smile out of the pretty mage, so that was a positive.

“Then you have my sincere gratitude,” the soldier saluted. “And thank you, Lady Aurora. We wouldn’t have survived without you and Lord Trevelyan here.”

“You should go,” Aurora told her then looked to Cassandra. “Is the path clear for them? They have injuries and wouldn’t be well off in the Temple.”

“Yes, for the time being,” Cassandra answered before turning to the troops. “Go, while you still can.”

“At once,” the Lieutenant agreed. “Quickly! Let’s move!” The three remaining soldiers followed after her lead. Once they were gone, the ones remaining turned to look at the Breach.

“The path ahead appears to be clear of demons as well,” Solas noted, turning to the others.

“Let’s hurry before that changes,” Cassandra ordered, ready to move.

“I’ve gotta agree there,” Seigfried noted, twirling one of the arrows he picked up. “Don’t want to run out of party favors before we crash it, right?” He shot a smirk to Cassandra who groaned.

“Do you have to come along as well? Why not see the soldiers return safely?”

“But then you’ll miss my handsome face, Seeker.”

“He’s coming to insure you don’t kill The First when the job is done,” Aurora interjected, seeming to not be interested in any bantering games at the moment, making her way past the Seeker and noble. 

Seigfried gave a partial shrug, shooting Cassandra a crooked smirk before looking back to the mage. “Don’t tell  _ all  _ my secrets, ‘Rora.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novelization of my play through of Inquisition. There are slight alterations to canon, but I attempted to stay as close to given canon as possible.


End file.
